


Left the Light On For You

by Misfitschibis



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crosshairs and you both have an awful mouth sometimes, Fluff, Gen, Holoforms, Pre-AoE, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Reader Gender is undefined, but don't worry there's more fluff to cover it you'll never notice I promise, okay maybe some angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-06-10 06:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6942895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misfitschibis/pseuds/Misfitschibis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your life with the added bonus of one Crosshairs</p><p>Warning: Colors may Vary, blankets and/or wallets might be stolen off your person, garages might be filled, parachutes might deploy, your life might not ever be the same. </p><p>Does not come with batteries or an off switch</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Left the Light On

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, I haven't written and finished a fanfic in ages and it has to be this one. Ha, not that I'm complaining but I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writting this little blurp. I left myself some space to add more. Feeling good about writting once more.

Someone moved into your bed, cozying up to your side, moving the blankets off from over your head as they climbed in and started scooting up. There was warm air on the ear that wasn't in your pillow, a voice ready to speak.

"Good mornin'." It finally spoke, gruff, tired and it's owner ready to let go of the rest of what was left of the night.

You crack open your eye to look at the red glare of your alarm clock: 4:32 AM.

Fair enough.

"Hm," you hum at Crosshairs, letting him move you slowly so that his hologram could fit with you in your bed, it would be gone in the morning. A useless gesture but a welcome one anyways to tell you that he had returned alive. He pulled you close, the rough scratchy feel of the eternal five o'clock shadow on his face tickled your neck while he tried for the life of him to make himself comfortable in your bed, human beds just weren't exactly a familiar and soothing thing to him.

"Y'didn't try to wait up late for me did y'?" Granted for you, 2 am was not exactly late late. For you anyways, but sleep was always valued by both of you. 

"Didn't even bother." You lied through a yawn, closing your eyes again, you could look at him tomorrow, "left the light on for you." As you had noticed, it was now completely dark in your room. The light coming from the hall had been shut off, at least he was thoughtful this time.

"I noticed, thanks f' that." Crosshairs grunts and tries again to get comfortable, planting a slightly itchy in the right way kiss on the back of your neck. You could laugh but you were just too tired to bother.

"I tried comin' back sooner. Feckin' traffic, nearly hit a deer. Th' bloody hell those things doin' up at this hour?" At last he finally heaves a sigh and settles.

"Plotting your demise." You scoff softly into the blankets being pulled over both of you. You reach a hand under to pull his arm over you so you could hold it. Crosshairs laughs and gives your hand a squeeze.

"Well they fuckin' suck at it." He muffles a yawn into your hair.

"I never said they were good at it." 

"I don't remember." 

"Don't worry about it."

"I won't. Now go the fuck back to sleep."


	2. Carnival Prize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't stay and you know it. Apparently he can't stay even when you do things together either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahah Carnival Games always look fun but you gotta know the right person to win the Prize don't you.

Well, you honestly couldn't keep a alien robot locked in your garage. Crosshairs had things to do and his legs were just about as itchy as his highly prized trigger fingers. You tried a few times but he just looked at you with optic's that said all he needed to. It wasn't that he wasn't safe anymore, he just had busy robot alien things to do. You just wished you could cling a little longer to him. Just a bit more. Even though he promised there would be time later.

So you thought a while. It took a few of his visits (eight of them, you counted.) for you to finally find something both of you could do. Something that would keep his attention.

Although....now that you were here at the county fair....you somehow had managed to lose him in the bright lights, fried wonders, and children's delight and cheers. It concerned you. About as much concern you had for your missing wallet. Cash only, to your relief, but still a bummer because now you couldn't buy those tantalizing looking fried Oreos and cram them into the mouth of Crosshairs' holo.

You knew Crosshairs got anxious around human crowds, bugged out by groups bigger than a handful and got down right grumpy when he had to pass through a city known for it's traffic.

Had he left in a hurry? Afraid to hurt your feelings? Was he going to text you later? More importantly how the heck were you gonna get home with your ride having gone quite literally on his own.

"BABE!!" 

Your neck almost makes a audible snap as you turn it to the familiar rasp. "Wh-"

"Sorry bout running off like tha'." He's smiling so nothing bad could have happened, you still run over to him and grab the hand of his hologram like a child who got away. Wait what's this in his hand... Wait that's 

"And y'r wallet..." 

You gape. "Why?"

"I got y' some stuff..." He's pulling at the collar of his shirt, something he picked up either from you or else where. But then he turns around and waves at a few carnies who have bags. Very large colorful bags.

"More like won y' stuff." With your money no less but looking at how much he had accumulated. The helpful people put about seven bags at your feet. There were a lot of stuffed animals. "Use t' have four ware houses o' these things but...uh they sorta got taken away..."

You want to ask how much he spent. But the gesture is so unlike him but at the same time very much him with shooting galleries.  
So you just wrap your arms around him, you won't forget this. Not for a long time.

Crosshairs laughs and rubs your back, "by th' way th' green ones are mine."


	3. Just Need Some Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One might think Cybertronians are powerful and majestic creatures who don't get sick or might need a hand. You, of course learn the hard way that apparently yes, they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha A Two part thing. I wasn't going to post this until I finished the other half but I'm over eager to share the things I make!

You're use to Crosshairs letting himself into your garage. Especially on rainy days like this when the thunder rumbles in the distance. It's as familiar as his holo coming into your bed and hogging all the blankets.

So you're not surprised to find the garage door open (his little way of telling you he's there) on your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You hear something vaguely rattling that's not unlike the sound of a AC unit turning on repeatedly and pass it off for Crosshairs snoring. As you pass you can just make out the dim shape of his pedes twitching a bit. He must have had a long trip, so you don't go in to disturb him and go on to get food so you can go take a shower and make yourself presentable to him.

While you clean up you think about how messy your garage is, not exactly that messy, a while ago you got rid of a lot of things and cleaned a little to give Crosshairs some room to park and (albeit awkwardly) transform and stretch out as he was right now. Maybe the next time he was gone you would to give him something nice to come back to. Maybe you could fit a tv in so he wouldn't have to use his hologram to watch a movie with you. Maybe some better lighting and some....

Thoughts were pulled away when you hear the familiar rattling grow suddenly louder, a hitch and then a bang and roar with crashing and a very irritated groan.

You get up and run out to find the garage full of dust, tumbled boxes and a Crosshairs writhing underneath his own parachutes making.....

_Wait_....was he _sniffling_? There's no way that stuffy whooshing noise couldn't be sniffling...

"Cross?" You call to him over the noise he's making and slowly approach him while he's still trying to untangle himself. 

" _Shite_." He hisses, moving a little faster until you can finally see his optics peeking out at you from parachutes like a toddler underneath blankets, "I didn't wake y' did I?" 

Moving some boxes out of the way, you start helping him get the chutes back to where he can start packing them back in. "No, I'm fine, what the hell happened?"

There's more of that sniffling noise, more of the paratrooper getting himself organized before you receive a response in a voice more raspy and quiet than you'd ever heard from him.

" _I fucking sneezed_."

There's a pause as you stifle a laugh to keep him from getting pissy and take notice that when you're closer to his frame, it's a lot hotter than it usually is, and not to mention his venting sounds just terrible, like the sound of a thousand old computer fans working overtime with some metallic rattling thrown in. 

Crosshairs reaches behind himself to make sure his chutes get tucked away again properly, you automatically start helping by making sure none of your garage junk is caught inside them and only stop when Crosshairs does to hack into his servo, the sound isn't pretty and you grab on to his unoccupied hand to get his attention. 

"Crosshairs are you sick?" You ask.

The look over his shoulder and disgruntled grunt confirms your suspicions and fills your heart with concern and a desire to help. 

"It's not serious is it?" You amble around him once the chutes are packed away, and it surprised you just how terrible a robot could look when they were ill.

Vents rattle again and the green mech shakes his helm starting another short coughing fit that ends with him speaking in a hoarse and static filled voice.

"Nah, it's..." He was looking for words, dropping his hand as he thought, "it's like a cold t' ya. I j'st need t' get some rest is all." 

He starts getting boxes together, scattered by his parachutes deploying, stacking them at your feet, you take the hint and start moving them far out of the way of any future sneezing.

"How'd you get sick?" You frown at the boxes as though it was their fault. Though the dust is probably a contributing factor to the previous event.

"Probably from Earth's Internet. Hackin' government databases, GPS satellites, Facebook pages, Tumblr, YouTube..." You could have sworn you heard him mutter 'porn sites' but he was coughing again and you couldn't make it out.

"I haven't exactly had th' time t' power down lately babe. Y'c'n thank th' rest 'a y' kind for this." You watch him start laying down again, this time wisely laying on his back. It makes you want to get him a better bed. You stand next to his helm and rub the side of it, listening to the wheezy excuse of a purr coming from him.

Crosshairs knows you're worried, and he turns his helm and tilts it to kiss your hand very gently with a smile, "I'm gonna be okay love, I promise. It'll take a lot more t' put me down for good. J'st lemme rest a bit a'right? I'll call y' when I'm up." 

You nod, but stay beside him, idly rubbing his cheek until he powers down again and your left with the sound of his snoring.

You pat him on the cheek one more time and get up to go shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw: it was in fact a combination of porn sites and Government hacking.


	4. Just need a little more Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crosshairs is still sick, you're still concerned. And rightfully so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! getting a bit longer with chapters! Having a bit of fun with this fic. Hope you guys are liking this

After getting a shower -one filled with more ideas of how you could renovate your garage- you throw on some sweats, a tank and walk by the garage again, debating on what to do with the day now that Crosshairs was here.

 You look around the house, straighten this and that, clean (not that he noticed) here and there. You try watching TV with the volume low but everything just seems so dull and pointless. You know exactly why you feel like this. Hell, he's snoring away in your garage.

 Leaning in the door way you look inside at him again. Not that his status seems to have changed. He's still got that rattled air-conditioner-forever-turning-on sound coming from him. If not for that, you'd think he was just peacefully napping away in here. It's odd to think his species could fall ill at all. You'd seen (mostly blurry rarely ever top quality shots) others of his kind on TV and the Internet. They were all giant and almost god like.....

 Crosshairs makes a particularly loud snore, cooling fans sputtering and complaining at him before setting back down to their regular pattern.

  _Mmm_.... you rethink.

 Maybe not so godlike in Crosshairs' case. You'd come to know the sting ray long enough that godlike was just not an adjective for describing him. Loud, obnoxious, snarky and well... Crosshairs, really was _cross_.

 Unless you were calling him the god of assholes which, still really was complimenting him.

 You scoff softly leaning on the door, supposing that just honestly was part of his charm. It was something that oddly attracted you to him, and you really wouldn't want him any other way.

With a sigh you start to head back inside to figure out what it is you want to do to kill time. You're about half way to the couch before you hear another noise coming from the garage.

But it's not the one you heard when he sneezed. In fact it sounds almost like a kitten mewl and it's followed by a few more that make you go back into the garage to look at him.

 Physically he looks fine -not that you're any expert in cybertronian physiology-. Everything's the same as you had left him a minute ago save for the now increasing amount of sounds...until you get a look at his face. Scrunched up more than it usually is when he's in a mood...

"Are you having a nightmare?”Your mouth runs your thoughts out loud, though they go unanswered as you get closer to the side of his head, not too worried that he'll roll over on you. The sounds increase again and they're sounding more familiar, now you're sure he's crying out in his sleep.

You're learning so much about his kind and not in the way you'd like to. Today you're learning all the things that happen to him that make you concerned and worried and you're honestly not a big fan of it at all. In fact you almost hate it.

“Heeeeyyyy...Shhhh” You speak softly and touch his face, it's as hot as when you touch a car that's been left in the sun for hours. You're not really sure if any of what you're going to try is going to work. But you're not gonna sit there and let him suffer.

“Crosshairs...” You feel a little silly comforting a sleeping robot giant, “....hey big guy...It's me. It's okay... I'm here...Can you hear me? It's safe where you are....uh...I don't...really know what's going on in that head of your's right now but it can't be too good if....uhm...you're crying like this.” You're pretty sure you're near his audial where he can hear best...but you are damn sure he likes it when you touch his face, you know he can feel you by the way the plates slightly shift under your hand.

“ _Don't_.” His voice nearly makes you trip backwards.

 “Huh?”

His arms fidget and settle down again, “ _Don't_... _get away from_...”

Well now, nightmares for robots confirmed. Not that you really wanted to know that but...

“... _please_...” his static filled whimper sends a chill down your spine that makes a detour to the core of your heart. It's not like him. It's unsettling this side of him.

Your voice becomes just a bit steadier, “ Hey babe...” Your hand stops rubbing his cheek for a moment, you've never actually called him by any terms of endearment. That really was his thing. Feels weird when you're the one doing it. Hm.

“Hey asshole.” Ah that felt better. It makes you smile. “Look...I don't know what you're....nightmaring.” That was a word now, “about but I'm right here. It's okay Crosshairs. There's nobody hunting you here...or turning you in...” You scoff, “this is stupid. I really wish you were my size or the other way around so I could hold you in my arms and make you stop. But I can't....so....” You try touching other parts of his face that you can reach. The corner of his mouth, the side of his nose, his shuttered optics....to your surprise his frame starts settling again, and the whimpering slows.

“It's okay Crosshairs.” You kiss the side of his head, ignoring how stupid you feel doing this. “Shhh, it's okay.”

He stops, that snore coming back again and filling the room with blessed noise of a sleeping grumpy corvette. You on the other hand, don't stop rubbing the side of his face for a while.

Just to be sure he's okay, totally for him not for you. A half hour goes by. And you're feeling a little better, but you really don't want to leave him alone or be anywhere else.

So you go inside and get a bunch of pillows and blankets and a couple of books and set up a nest next to him. Waiting to see if he was going to wake up today or tomorrow. Didn't really matter to you how long.

Actually it ended up being as long a short book and a few magazines and a snack until he finally did wake up.

Scared the hell out of you, it'd been so quiet -save for his snores and occasional cough or hiccup- that hearing him suddenly snort awake and start to move nearly jolted you out of your skin and yell in surprise....

...which in turn startles the hell out of him, making him jerk and knock over a stack of boxes, again.

At least it wasn't his parachutes.

“Th' hell y' doin' here?!” His voice still sounded tired, but it sounded much better than it had earlier, even his venting seemed to have cleared a bit. The mech's frame hissed as he turned on his side, and propped himself up with an elbow to look at you...and your little spread of blankets and pillows. He snorts at it.

“Don't tell me y've been in 'ere th' whole time.” He sounds surprised even though you haven't confirmed it.

“I might have been.” You scoff at him and look away, crossing your arms the same way he does when he denies doing something nice to you. “Some asshole in here was having a nightmare.”

Optics squint, silently questioning you.

You turn back to him, getting up and shoving the nest closer to sit near him, “You don't remember huh? You started making an awful fuss while you were asleep.”

His expression softens to being abashed, something you'd never seen before...but there's still that wrinkle in his nose, he didn't like the way he was feeling about this.

“You wouldn't stop until I started talking to you.” You want to ask if he remembered what he was dreaming about that caused this whole thing. Looking at him now, you can tell he definitely remembered, but he doesn't look like he's willing to share what was wrong or what happened. “Are you alright Crosshairs?”

Now he looks conflicted, as though he wanted to talk about it but ends up saying something else.

“I'm okay....I....” Crosshairs sighs, you watch his frame settle a little. His arm sweeps out from under him and pulls you and the blankets over just a little closer. With a smile you pet his face again, it honestly doesn't get old for you, especially when it makes him smile.

“Thanks love.” his other hand reaches and rubs at his optics while he yawns. It's kinda cute.

“How are you feeling now? You sound a lot better than before.”

It takes a few moments for Crosshairs to stop yawning, “Tons, thanks f' askin',” he hums, his optics flutter a little,  “babe y' keep that up I'm gonna fall asleep again. I wanna see y' f'r a bit.”

“Then go back to sleep if you're still tired.” You chuckle, knowing all to well the feeling of waking up from a long nap while being sick. Suddenly concerned. “I won't leave. I'll be right here until you wake up.”

He laughs, but his face is serious taking in your words. “Maybe just a bit more.”

You lean over and kiss his nose, he surprises you by kissing your stomach. “I might go get something to eat in between, that's fine right?”

“ _Oh_ sure babe, leave me ta rot while y' take care o'yer disgusting fueling system.”

You pull away from him and he looks at you with disgust that you know isn't true. It makes you grin and put your hands on your hips.

He's definitely feeling a lot better.

“Well I'm sorry I have a stomach and a bladder Crosshairs!”

“Agugh! You humans and your waste systems! You're so gross! Why do I even like you!?”

You get up, grinning at his stupid face before turning away as you leave the garage to get some food.

“Good night asshole.” You tell him, waving, getting silence from him.

“Babe come back.”

“I'll think about it.” You reply, fully intending of coming back.

 


	5. Sometimes, I Get a Good Feelin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mmmm couch cuddles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmmmmmm Short chapter

It took another day of sleeping -much more restful than the first day- for Crosshairs to get back to feeling better than he had in months, and now he had moved from his own frame, to his hologram-

-to your couch. Where he was more or less sleeping more.

You loomed over the snoozing hologram. Brushing his tousled hair gently and taking a notice of the white tank and...

"Crosshairs are those my boxers?" Not that you really minded looking at them on his butt.

All you get is a grunt in return. So you sit on his ass and make him groan under the weight.

"Hey! Wake up lazy ass!"

"Ugh, wake me up when th' war is over lovey." His arm reached and pulled you down beside him like you were an oversized teddy bear that he could snuggle his face into the back of.

"Don't you know not ta go pokin' sleepin' dogs?" He growls in your ear and grunts, " _whudduy'want_?"

"Why the hell are you wearing my clothes?"

"I thought m'ass would look better in 'm than yours."

" _And_?"

He snorts, hot air puffing on your ear, "I was right."

You jerk your arm into his gut making him laugh rather than whine, "are you saying my ass doesn't look good?"

" 'Course not babe, 'im just sayin' I think my ass, looks better in this particular pair." Now he's yawning in your ear, what a sleepy asshole.

"Why don't you just hologram yourself a pair?" You let him creep his other hand under you and pull you close to cuddle, his hand takes a hold of yours and intertwines your fingers.

"Because y' already know I'm lazy. I don't feel like renderin' another pair o' boxers just cos they look good on me when I can borrow yours? 'Sides don't y'like lookin' at me in your clothes?"

"Crosshairs, I love looking at you no matter what you wear."

"Does this include nothin'?" You smile at the feeling of his smile kissing the back of your neck. You feel like joining him in a nap, but his shifting makes you think he has another plan.

"So I wanna ask y' somethin'. I got a few days left before I gotta go back out there. Assumin' nothin' botches up n' everythin' goes t'shit. Do y'have any plans this week?"

 _Well not anymore you didn't_ , he never asked something like this. "No, why Crosshairs? Did you plan something?"

He laughs again, "Nah, not really. It's just a little somethin' I've been thinkin' bout f' awhile. Not really a hundred percent on it but, uh. How do y' feel 'bout skydivin'?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wake me up, when the war is dead~  
> Hope you guys are still loving this!


	6. Wasted Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you've made a choice.  
> Actually you've made two.

“I don't know,” you had told Crosshairs, “let me think about it.”

“Take your time love,” he had replied.

So you did. You took the rest of that day to think about it.

And now it was the next day, and you were sitting in his lap in one of the more scenic of his local safe spots just to get you both out and away from your house for some fresh air. Woodsy and green, there were enough trees that kept him hidden and blended well with his paint job. The two of you were listening to the wind in the trees while talking about this and that. You decided to change the subject.

“Crosshairs, I really don't think I can go jumping out of a plane or off a cliff or building with you.” You tell him, reaching up to rub the hand that was petting your head. He shifts and looks down at you, wearing this unsurprised looking grin as he scoffs.

“It’s not that I don't trust a guy who’s got his chutes attatched to him, it’s…”

“Really scary?” He finishes, thumb reaching to rub your back.

“Yeah…” You could just make out the hint of disappointment in him, your response apparently hadn't surprised him that much. You tilt your head up into his thumb, trying to look at his face prompting him to take it away and give you an odd look.

“Sorry Crosshairs.”

“Nah. Don't worry ‘bout it babe.” He smiles at you...hesitantly.

“Maybe in the future?” You offer, wondering if there’s something wrong.

That smile drops off his face like a rock off a cliff, “about...that…”

 _Oh_.

“What’s wrong?” You turn around to properly face him, instead of hurting your neck. “Did something come up?”

“Somm’in like that...I have…” He pauses to count to himself, “‘bout five more days, not countin’ t’day.”

Well, obviously now something was different about him leaving for him to show any emotion at this. You verbally prod him to continue.

“And? What happens after that? You leave right?” Maybe if you acted casual about it he’d spit out a bit more.

“Yeah, I leave…” Crosshairs grumbles to himself and rubs his faceplates, frustrated with whatever this was. For someone as old as he was you’d think he’d be a little better with his own feelings. Cybertronians were such a quirky race. You wished other humans would see them the same way. Not that you didn't think there were others like you.

“But I dunno if I'm gonna be comin’ back love. Somm’in’ big’s goin’ on... Bumblebee’s callin’ everyone - I guess anyone at this point - together. I dunno where, or what’s gonna happen or…” He’s fidgeting, a hand held you in place keeping you from falling off. You hear him grumble something into his other hand.

“Huh?”

“Look y’know I suck at this kinda shit. I just, wanted t’ spend some time with y’...j’st...y’know somethin’ special...in case...y’know…”

You hold on to his hand, frowning at the same time you feel your heart sink, “you don't come back is time.”

“Yeah…” Crosshairs lets you climb up his chassis to his shoulder, the hand you were holding hovering behind you to catch you if you slipped. When you finally sit, his head gently leans into you, so you start rubbing his cheek.

Both of you fall silent, but you can hear the stressed whirring of his systems with the light breeze in the trees. You listen for a while, thinking.

Thoughts of never seeing the grumpy green stingray ever again. Ideas of waking up and never seeing your garage door open and his snoozing form or his optic's squinting with a grin at you. Waking up to find all your blankets are next to you wrapped around a person who had been there with you for a while. The plushies he’d won you at the fair would turn into reminders of memories that made you sad instead the happy things they were.

Never getting to hear his voice in your ear or make some smart ass comment or joke at you.

The breeze blew a little harder taking you out of your thoughts for a bit.  
You wished the wind was strong enough to carry the heavy feeling the both of you had far away.

But that wasn't going to happen, this wasn't like some of the films this situation reminded you of. These thoughts stung you like a swarm angsty little wasps.

You hated wasps, and you hated this. It left a bitter taste in your mouth, a painful lump in your throat, a bite mark on your lip. The hand you’d been petting him with was now holding on to his head like he was a giant living security object, afraid of letting him go.

You knew what had to be done. It was the only option you knew you had. You hated it too, but like hell were you going to waste any precious part of it.

You nod to yourself, swallow the lump in your throat, and take a deep breath, letting go with a sigh.

“Babe?” Crosshairs turns to the noise.

You pat his face and slide down his arm, tugging at his hand to get him moving. There wasn't time for crying or wasting.

Not yet anyways.

“Come on Asshole.” You grin at his perplexed face, mentally laughing in the face of the depression you know is going to grab hold of you later. “Get up you mopey Stingray! Come on! We still have five days! We got special shit to go do!” You tug harder.

He finally catches on, his grin coming back as he gets up to follow you.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had written a chapter for skydiving but I ended up not liking it and I kept getting a weird anxiety while rewriting so I'm gonna maybe save it for later but um....haaayyyy. Lookit you got five days with him right?
> 
> Anyways I wanted to say thanks to everyone leaving me kudos and Comments! They fuel my to keep going!


	7. A Fun Night Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha I'm so sorry for taking so long with this chapter. Just the smallest bit of a struggle for me but I owe Hummun323 for all her help and patience she gave me while I was writing this.

“Come on.” You tug his hand gently with a firm squeeze. “I’ll be here with you.” 

The hologram’s hand pulls back, and you turn to look back at Crosshairs. You’ve never seen him so nervous. Or his hologram looking so well groomed and not like he’d just gotten out of bed from under a car for that matter. You knew why he was nervous, and rightfully so.

But you didn't think he would get so anxious at a small cafe. Not too many humans, and a nice open seating just outside the cafe where he could stay close to his alt.

“It’s okay.” You tug again trying to be encouraging with a smile, wondering if this even was a good idea. Watching his eyes shift around the area like he was already backed into a corner seeking escape. But he continued walking with you, muttering under his -did he even?- breath. You were starting to wonder if pulling his teeth would have been easier.

“ _Right_.” He nodded, staying close to you.

Did he even have teeth? He smiled like he did, but you couldn't ever remember his mouth, too busy laughing or smiling with him or even getting frustrated with him while he had a laugh at your expense.

Oh, you’d been so busy thinking you hadn't even notice Crosshairs get you both a table. To your relief, for his sake, something outside. You sat across from each other, giving you a better look at just how fidgety he was. Even in the dim lighting from the candles on the table you could see his brows knitted together in some odd form of frustration and anxiety. He didn't seem to be too crazy about how he felt.

You grab his hand away to get his attention, still smiling at him despite how worried you felt about him. Idly you look behind him and spot his alt mode parked just a few spaces away, hard to miss that emerald paint job of his. You smile a little more.

“There’s a good looking Stingray over there Cross. Wouldn't mind talking to the owner about it.” 

“Whot” That nervous look on his face skews to confusion, spinning his head around to look back at his own alt. “Wh-....oh!” He starts to laugh, and it makes you feel a little less worried. “It’s me.” 

You laugh too, “of course it’s you, who did you think I was talking about.” 

He scoffs, and turns around again, looking much more like himself, at least hologramwise. “Hey, I wanna be sure I'm th’ only Ray around. Y’ think I'm th’ only one with good tastes in alt modes?” 

You make a of surprise face at him, still laughing, “don't tell me you’re the jealous type now!”

“No!” He takes his hand away from you to cross his arms, “why? Y’know any other good lookin’ cars?” 

You shake your head, “of course not, you’re the only asshole for me.” 

The both of you never even noticed that your waiter had been standing politely waiting for you. You hastily pick up the menu in front of you and give it a quick glance,

Crosshairs laughs quietly at you and doesn't bother to pick the menu up, “I just want a cuppa tea, not really hungry thanks.” 

You order a small salad, it wasn't like you wouldn't end up snacking while staying up late with him anyways. You hand over the menu to the waiter and relax in your chair.

“Feeling okay?” You ask Crosshairs, it wasn't uncommon for him to have a drink in his hologram. Unless it was desert being offered to him. For a giant robot from another planet he sure did have a sweet tooth.

He leans back in his chair, looking in the window of the cafe you were both next to at the other couples inside, back at the parking lot. You looked too, and noticed this place was not very crowded at all. His voice calls back your attention to him.

“I'm okay.” He admits, letting his shoulder slump, looking much calmer than he had when he got here. It makes you feel a little less worried about him.

It makes you smile. So you nudge his foot under the table, wondering after if footsie even was a thing on Cybertron.

“What?” Crosshairs grins at you, but you shake your head. So maybe footsie was lost on him.

“Nothing, just enjoying the view.”

“Funny I was gonna say th’ same thing.” To your surprise his foot nudges you back! “You must be lookin’ in a mirror babe.”

You look away from him, grinning stupidly feeling your face get warmer. He starts to laugh, nudging you again. Well you aren't going to let him have all the fun so you lightly step on the offending foot.

Crosshairs leans in on the table, resting his chin in his hands looking very smug as he follow you and puts his other foot on top of yours just as his tea and your salad arrive.

You watched him make his tea looking rather peaceful while he did. It was one of the few things he actually could prepare for himself with little help, and one of the even fewer things his hologram ingested that wasn't loaded with sugar. Even now he didn't even put a full teaspoon in. It wasn't something you taught him how to do. Someone else had ages ago when humans worked alongside Cybertronians.

Not that that time was insanely long ago.

Crosshairs’ sigh takes you out of your thoughts, he’s putting his cup down and looking at the street watching passerbys.

“This is nice.” He comments, turning back to watch you eat your salad. “Home never had any cafes.”

You shake your head, “I'm not surprised, food isn't exactly a big deal for you is it?" 

He looks bitterly into his teacup. "Maybe if the war wasn't a thing. I dunno.” 

You offer a forkful of your salad to him. “Wanna try?” 

He makes a face like he usually does when you offer him some new kind of edible to him. Scrutinizing the dressing covered leaves like they insulted his guns.

“Why would I wanna to eat grass? What th’ hell is that thing on the end?”

You move the fork closer to him, giggling in your head at the sight of him moving away from the offending fork. “It’s a crouton, you eat it because it’s tasty. Try it!” 

“The hell is a crouton?” 

He had internet built into himself. You knew that very well. It just didn't make sense to you why he never looked things up for himself. You guessed he just felt like being lazy. Even better, that he liked talking to you and hearing what you had to say.

“Slightly stale bread that’s been jazzed up.” Ah yes, you had interesting things to say indeed.

He looks at you like you just came from a planet that wasn't Earth and wasn’t one he was familiar with.

“Babe.” He takes your other hand, looking concerned. You noticed as well he hadn't moved his feet off yours. “Babe, I don't understand, y’tell me stale food is bad f’ya. Y’ll get sick if y’ eat it. For the love o’Primus why are ya eatin’ it?”

“Look, it’s day old or possibly even just toasted, but I'm not gonna argue over the definition of croutons with you.” Curiously you shove the fork slowly closer to him. Sure enough he backs away like it’s kryptonite.

“I'm not eatin’ grass.” 

You cram the fork into his mouth, reaching over with your other hand to hold his mouth shut. “Eat it! It’s healthy dear,” you grin at him as his feet fly away from yours under the table. He crosses his arms and gives you a glare that could have put even the most cross and bitter of beings to shame. Still though, he chews and finally swallows.

He licks your hand before shoving your arms away.

So you feel a little bad about it, but you try nudging his leg again with your foot while he quaffs mouthful after mouthful tea, not that he had much left in his first cup to wash the taste out. 

“Don't do that again babe.” He glares at the tea pot for not pouring out the tea fast enough, and then there’s a hint of a grin as he nudges you back again.

“Aw, I'm sorry,” you aren't, “how about I make it up to you? How about we get cake?”

He looks thoughtfully at you. “F’ me t’ eat or f’ us t’ share?” 

“Are you going to share?” You remember the first time you’d gotten him a cake. With the intention of sharing it with him. It was a little one, a tiny cake you’d seen at the supermarket, like an upgraded cupcake. You’d dropped it off home while Crosshairs was visiting so it’d stay fresh while you ran other errands and made the mistake of saying “I got you a cake.” Rather than “I got us a cake.” 

By the time you got home there was one happy Crosshairs hologram on your couch and a one empty cake container on your coffee table. Who very readily argued with you about how you said “I got you” rather than “I got us.”  
You couldn't stay mad at him for that, the whole point of it anyways was to make him happy.

He leans back in his chair again and sighs, “I guess I could share wit’ you love.”

You eat the last bit of your salad looking falsely concerned. “Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother.” 

Crosshairs waves you off and the waiter over. 

“Oh no, ya only bring me out, cram grass int’ my mouth an-” he pauses to speak to the waiter, “Can we get a slice o’ chocolate cake? Thanks.” He turns back to you, “and then y’have th’ absolute nerve to ask me, if I, want t’ share a slice of cake wit’ y’ that I don't even need t’ eat t’ survive?”

“Oh I'm so sorry your highness.” You hang the waiter your plate, leaning over the table, still nudging his feet and getting nudged back.

He scoffs, “‘Your highness?’ Who the hell do you think I am? A prince? Hell no I'm the king.”

“His Majesty is an ass.” 

He looks so damned pleased with himself, you never would have believed just a while ago he was a mess of anxiety.

“Commin’ from you that’s the highest compliment I could get.” He reaches and takes your hand, lightly rubbing your knuckles. You grin back at him, it’s hard not to when his grin is just so infectious. “Babe, remind me, when humans do these dinner date things, don't they usually skip dessert?”

You snort. “Why? Did you have something planned for at home? You’re the one who ordered the cake.”

Crosshairs sighs, looking away from you. He knows you’re right. You watch him start to look around again, at the parking lot (you notice he stops at every nearby car, maybe he’s looking for other Cybertronians?), back inside the cafe, to the plaza across the street from the cafe, something catches his eye.

“Babe, didja ever learn how’ta aim a gun?” He asks suddenly, still looking at whatever it, ah, now looking you see he’s spotted a gun shop with it’s own shooting gallery. No wonder.

Personally you weren't a fan of guns. Well at least outside of video games and any media involving Zombies. But you know very well that they’re near and dear to Crosshairs’ spark from the way you’ve watched him clean and maintain his….of course there’s one gun of his you wouldn't mind helping him with but….

Not to mention how well he uses them or anything that could be pointed and shot.

You aren't going to tell him no to something like that.

“Not a clue, why did you have an idea?”

“Would y’ wanna learn? There’s a shooting gallery over there.” He laughs, “I mean it already doesn't have th’ best artillery.”

“Says the mech who cleans out the carnival with whatever thing they hand him to shoot with.” You squeeze his hands, “of course i’d like to do that with you.” 

He practically glowed with how pleased looking he was with you stroking his ego.  
He kisses your knuckles. “You’re th’ best babe.”

“You don't deserve me.” You tease. 

“Nah? Shame then, cos who am I gonna share this cake with?” He nods his head and picks up his fork as the waiter comes from behind with the cake.

You thank the waiter when Crosshairs doesn't because not even a full second after the plate is placed, he’s already cramming a huge bite into his mouth.

“Share!” You try to move his hand away, but he laughs and grabs your wrist.

“You can have a bite babe!”

“Oh my god you greedy little shit.” You try to pry your hand away, making him laugh more through another few bites of cake until a third of the slice is left.

Only then does he let your hands go. “I think that’s half.”

You aren't sure why you expected anything different out of him. He looked so damn happy too. You sigh and start eating what he’s left you. You definitely were going to miss him.

“Y’lookin’ at that Ray again babe?” He picks up a spoon and looks a his undoubtedly distorted image and brushes some crumbs from his mouth.

“How can I not? He’s in my view constantly.” And soon he won't be, you frown.

Something that didn't go unnoticed by Crosshairs, “Something on your mind lovie?” 

“A lot of things.” You don't really feel like dragging him down.

“Anything y’d like t’ share?”

You smirk looking behind him at his alt again, “I was thinking.” You lower your voice and notice he’s listening closely, “of asking the owner of that Ray for a test drive, you think he would mind?”

You laugh when he sputters the last mouthful of tea he had, even the waiter bringing the bill looked concerned for him.

The minute the bill is paid, Crosshairs wastes no time in getting up from his chair and offering you his arm to walk you to his alt.

“So do you think he’s only got standard issue features or all the extras?” You speak low to him again, opening the passenger side for you.

“Do y’really think I’d pick this alt n’ not have anythin’ extra? Don't go insultin’ me babe.” He shuts the door and makes a show of himself as he goes around to his driver’s side, sliding himself into his seat smoothly. “Ol’ Crosshairs here is gonna show y’ before tonight is over there’s nothin’ standard about ‘im.”

You grin. Feeling like there’s little chance of you waking up in your own bed tomorrow morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 all of you who stuck around waiting for me with this! Please feel free to fuel me with comments!


	8. On the Road...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So about that ride home?
> 
> Yeah that's going to be a bit longer than you expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been actually months that I've been working on this chapter and It's not even fully done but I didn't want to leave everybody hanging! So I decided to split it up! I'm hoping to have the other half finished soon/ish. But I want to thank everyone who left me such lovely comments. They mean so much to me and encourage me to keep going. I would especially like to thank my dear friend hummun323 who has helped me through this more times than I can count and even helped with editing this.  
> Also to Crossbust who feeds my love for Crosshairs more. and Peachcanwrite on tumblr for all those headcanons because those also feed me.

Crosshairs took you on one hell of a joy ride, loud music, long, winding roads, a near run in with a cop. All the as promised extras. But unlike Crosshairs, you couldn't stay awake as long as he could. All your yawns bounced back to you and he noticed, quietly chuckling at you while patting your leg with his hologram’s hand.

 “Babe why don't y’ go t’ sleep hm? I’ll get us home safe.” He’s stopped at a red light, leaning over and kissing your forehead. You seat even leans back for you, and honestly that's all it takes for you to conk out in his passenger seat. You could have sworn he put his jacket on you. Of course you were too tired to actually be sure and that definitely couldn't be him humming some cheerful tune. Not your King of Assholes, Crosshairs….but if he was that rough humming was oddly calming…

 “ _Mmmmm_ babe?”

 You turned over in your bed, “ _whhhhhat_? Lemme sleep asshole.” Your arm reached for him but never found him.

 “Babe come on,” he nudges you, forcing you to open your eyes.

 Only to find your line of sight filled with his actual robot face. You rub an eye, not really registering anything odd, maybe he left you in the garage.

 “Good morning asshole.” You yawn at him, rubbing your other eye and thoroughly enjoying the blurred image of him in the eye you just rubbed, “get lonely without me?”

 “Somm’n like that.” He backs away and you notice that no, this place is not your bed, and no it isn't your garage either. In fact you’re not even laying in one of your own blankets but one of Crosshairs polishing cloths. You jerk, and hear Crosshairs snort at you for finally noticing, “Crosshairs?”

 “Good mornin’ babe.” You turn to his voice

 “Cross, where the hell are we?”

 “It’s a bolt hole, a safe house .” Looking over you can see he’s sitting on some kind of cot with no mattress, you wonder if that's a berth. It looks uncomfortable as hell. You wonder if that's normal for Cybertronians to sleep on or if they sleep on softer surfaces.  “I thought we were being followed..n’ I...kinda got spooked. So I….” His optics look away from you.

He couldn't have done anything too bad…

 

_wait..._

 

“Crosshairs did you murder people?”

 “Well babe, I’ve been in a war f’r a few million years o’ my life soooo.” He laughs and you decide to ignore that piece of information. “But yeah actually I just got done cleanin’ th’ blood off.”

 You stare at him again, and he laughs harder.

 “I'm kiddin’ babe, I wouldn't do that while I had y’ around. Didn't want t’ wake y’ up. Nah I drove two states away.”

 Honestly that wasn't so bad. “Two states away? Because big Crosshairs got spooked?” you knew why he would have gotten spooked but still you teased.

 “Would y'have rathered I'd shot 'em?”

You shake your head and yawn, reaching to touch his face. Crosshairs leans, brushing your hand against his cheek. Taking a glance, you could see the space was sparse of any decoration, a large drum in a corner. A few notices were tacked against a wall that might have been notes to or from other Autobots. Some were written in glyphs you couldn't understand, others written in hastily scribbled English, one of which you could make out addressed to Crosshairs from someone named Drift. Crosshairs himself is sitting on that weird slab of metal welded to the wall, leaning over whatever surface he put you on.

 A sigh takes you out of your thoughts, “We should get goin'.” Crosshairs kisses your hand, “Gotta get y'fed.” Gently he picks you up with the cloth and heads out of the room, up a small flight of stairs.

  
“I thought you hated my biological needs.” Of which were several at the moment. Aside from it not being your home, it feels like any other morning with him around.

  
Only this time he didn't hog all the blankets.

“Yeah, but if y'didn't have them taken care of, y'd be dead, and then who's gonna buy cake f'r me?” He opened a door to a misty forest that dawn had only just begun to touch, fog giving Crosshairs enough cover to stay out for a bit until he found whatever way he'd come to get here. At least he knew the path well enough to get to a main highway.

  
Not that he stayed on it for long trying to find a suitable place for you to eat.

  
“Cross I'm not eating there.” At least he was trying to take care of you.

  
“Stop being picky!” Looking at his hologram, its eyes looked tired with dark circles. He really must have been spooked last night for it to have affected how his holo looked.

“Mmmm someone hasn't gone on a roadtrip to know that that just isn't a place to go eat.”

He gives you a look that says _babe don't test me right now._ “Don't start with me an' roadtrips until you've driven as much as I have. Which I don't even think is somethin' _any_ human can do.”

  
“Alright, alright.” You point to another place, “Look, go there, I'll eat there.”

  
“You can eat _in there_.” He huffs as he spins for a u-turn at a light. “I'm not drivin' with crumbs f'r that long.”

  
"Do you want anything, dear?” You offered as he opened his door for you, expecting him to stay in his alt waiting, surprising you when he got out.

“Might get a coffee.” he sighed while rubbing his tired looking eyes making you wonder if he got any rest at all last night.

 “Does that even help you?”

“I like the taste? I like you? I'm bored what do you want me to do? Wait out in m-” Crosshairs held the door for you and stiffened at how many humans were inside the restaurant “-in the car.” Enough for him to change how he referred to his alt. Not exactly a great start.

Gently you patted his arm and headed to the bathroom. You couldn’t do much without a bathroom kit, for a sleepover you didn’t plan on having, so all you can do is splash some water on your face and shake out your sweaty clothes. Eau deu Crosshairs. Aromantic. Stepping out of the bathroom, you spot your boyfriend has let himself into the restaurant. With a knowing smirk, you make your way over to buy you both coffee and pie.

“Why are you like this?” he rubbed his face. “I thought y' woulda been mad at me.”

“Because it's early morning and my _supposedly_ more intelligent significant other drove two states away in a panic and I figured maybe he might like something to go with his coffee.”

You weren't mad; surprised, sure. But you'd be happy spending time on the road with him regardless. You never drove very long or far with him.

He ate one of the pies, and split the other with you. “I think you spoil me too often.” He hummed. “This much organic food can’t be good for my tanks.”

“And that's bad? Are you complaining?” You threw away your trash on the way out while Crosshairs followed behind chugging what was left of his coffee.

“Y' think a bot like me is used to bein' treated so nice?”

“I think by now you'd be use to it.”

He just laughs, and kisses your head, “C'mon, we have a lotta ground t' cover to get home.”

As you head home, you drift in and out of napping, looking out the windows at the speeding scenery, or stealing glances at Crosshairs' holo, who either grins back at you or was busy glaring at the road like it owed him money. It made you wonder if he used his holo regularly like this or if it was just because you were here. The mental image of Crosshairs driving anywhere with the holo making faces at the road was amusing.

“See something y'like sweetheart?” Crosshairs asks one of the times you're awake and looking at him.

 “Always. There isn’t much about you that I don’t like.”

 “Oh?” He glances at you inquisitively.  “An’ what don’t y’ like?”

 “You’re a dick 99% of the time, you eat all my junk food, take all my blankets, you snore both in your holoform and in the garage. Loudly. And sometimes buckle my garage door.”

 He snorts, “That was one time! Y’ managed t’find a sensitive wire cluster an’ I kicked your garage door!”

 “You’re lucky you didn’t kick it down!” It’s hard not to smile at the memory; _it was funny_.

 “I still don’t know how y’ managed t’ cover up f’r th’ neighbors.”

 “Some bullshit story about a raccoon or something, I forget.”

 He’s grinning when he reaches to take your hand, “Alright so I got a twitchy leg, what else?”

 Of course you take his hand, enjoying the contact despite technically being in contact with him via sitting in...on...within? You’re touching him, it’s enough. You’re not gonna debate with yourself how to phrase “I’m sitting in/on my giant robot partner from space while he drives.”

 You pause at the next thought before your lips curve up in a wicked grin.

 “Your parachutes deploy.”

 His fingers twitch against your hand when he scoffs, “ I _sneezed_ . I was _sick_! Again! That was one time!”

 Now you’re grinning impishly “Does that happen _every time_ you sneeze?”

 “No! Now y’re being ridiculous!” You grin a little more when you see him roll his eyes.

 “Says you who always eats aaaaall of the cake and tell me it won’t happen again. I might stop buying cake if you don’t start sharing!”

 “I shared last night!”

 “You ate two, _two_ thirds of the _slice_ saying ‘you can have a bite!’ You only left a _bite_ , you meme!”

 He looks at you, and now you definitely know the holoform is just there for show. “You _meme_? What th’’ hell kinda weak insult is that?”

 You lean your head back into the headrest. “Shut up, I’m tired.”

 “Go back to sleep then, I dunno why y’ keep wakin’ up.”

 “If I go to sleep you’ll drive another two states away in the opposite direction.”

 “That was one time!”

 You start to laugh, hooting almost, “ Crosshairs, this _IS_ that time! This? What you’re doing now?  This is that time, you memelord!”

 “ _Oh,_ now I’m th' meme _lord_?”

 “You ascend the throne by unceremoniously plunking your gracious green ass down upon it and nobody was willing to try and kick you out because of how big a meme you were.”

 He shook his head, looking at the road again, bringing your hand to his face and giving your knuckles a kiss. “And there’s one o’ th’ things I like about y’.” You heard him say it quietly, like you weren’t suppose to hear him say that. You pretended to ignore it, but you melted inside at the simple praise.

 “Are we there yet?” He asked you a few minutes later.

 “Who’s the memelord who got spooked again?” Trying not to laugh, you look at his roof. It’s black like most of his interior and otherwise uninteresting compared to the rest of him. But you did wonder where it went when he was a robot. Were you sitting on his stomach? His shoulder? Who could say? Well, Crosshairs probably. “If a Crosshairs drives on the road by his lonesome, grumpy self, does he still whine?”

 “Yes.” His response was immediate. “Roads are fuckin’ ridiculous. Humans are dumb. Y’ create traffic and then y’ can’t transform and nope outta there because that’s just asking f’r death.” He lets go of your hand a moment to point at a white Toyota Corolla  a few cars ahead of him. “That guy is drivin’ me nuts. He keeps switchin’ lanes.”

 When he takes your hand again you give it a squeeze to calm him down looking at the offending car. “Easy Cross, that’s not even the same car; there’s two Corollas,” you point out.

 “I will personally run them both over and then eat th’ cars,”

 “Crosshairs, don’t eat them.”

 “Why th' hell not?”

 “They’re crappy cars, plus one of them is filthy. You don’t know where they’ve been.”

 “Y' don’t get to tell me what my diet should be.”

 “Says the bot who eats all the cake. And pie. And doesn’t have to worry about calories. Or fat. Or Carbs. Or Sugars. Or allergies.”

 “Hey, some bots have allergies. We get allergies. Pollen is awful on this planet.”

 “And yet you’re always shiny like a polished emerald on wheels when I see you, where’s the pollen?”

 His engine rumbles louder, clearly pleased with how you described him. “An emerald on wheels, eh? I _love_ it when you compliment me like that.”

 “You’re a shiny, green worm, then.” You let go of his hand and tuck it under your armpit as you cross your arms. He looks at you again with an over exaggerated pout.

 “Buttercup, why do you build me up just to let me down?” He tries to reach for your hand again.

 “Because I love you, asshole.” You take his hand again, giving him a smile.

 “At least someone on this fuckin’ mudball does.” He hums as you rub his knuckles, a purr coming from him that you aren’t sure is coming from his holo or his alt. Soon he’s silent and  watching the road again.

You shake his hand to get his attention. “You doing okay?” You never asked at breakfast, but you were worried about what happened when you were asleep. You know he’s probably not going to give a straight answer, but you can at least try.

You’re surprised when he answers rather quickly, “I’m tired. I honestly thought that I was gonna have t’ kidnap y’ and fuck up a lotta shit in th’ process.” His holo leans back and lets go of your hand to rub at his eyes again. You’re curious if his holoform is an analog to what he would do if it was his normal body....was his body normal? Did he have parents or relatives? Was he born or hatched? You feel as though you asked him about this ages ago and now you’ve forgotten.

“I hate that I’m so paranoid about humans, I shouldn’t have t’ fear for m’ life from _squishy fleshbag_ s.”

You squirm a little, always feeling a bit odd about how he talks about other humans. What made _you_ so different that he liked you so much? It’s not that you don’t agree though, there were a lot of awful people in the world and they seemed to outnumber the good.

His touch makes you jump, “I’m sorry, babe.”

“Why are you sorry? You’re not sorry about how your kind are being criminalized and hunted right?”

“Pit no, I’m just sorry you’re th’ only one I like anymore, 7 billion of y’ and you’re th’ only one who isn’t a piece of shit. Look I know I’m a pessimist, but t’ be real with you babe, it’d be nicer to be stranded on this backwater planet if it wasn’t so shitty. I just want to go home.”

You remember the day you saw Cybertron, when it was forming in Earth’s orbit; the Battle of Chicago. Terrifying. It wasn’t long after that you met Crosshairs.

“Isn’t your home destroyed or something?”

He shudders, not just his holoform but his whole frame, almost as though his seat was threatening to untransform. You suddenly wish you hadn’t spoken.

Crosshairs shakes his head, and goes silent, turning on his radio, almost refusing to say anything else.

You have a feeling this ride is going to last longer than previously estimated.

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Everyone again in advance for your comments and kudos! I'm hoping to have the next half done soon. Thanks for hanging in there!


	9. ...again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Back home we go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Hummun323 for helping me edit and to Everyone who listened to me rant about this chapter! I hope you all are still loving this as much as I am! Feel free to feed me comments!

“Are we almost there?” You asked to break the silence after an hour and a half of sitting in traffic; seeing if he would speak at all. He was parked at a rest stop for you, leaning against his alt mode waiting for you to come out, but even then what he had said was minimal. Honestly, you were just tired of silence; it was deafening.

 “About halfway.” Crosshairs looked at the sky, down the road to home, while scratching his neck. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

 He’s quiet for a moment, his face blank as though studying something far away, but it only lasts the moment before he’s looking back at you.

 “Looks like rain ahead, some traffic, assuming nobody fuckers up between here ‘n’ there. Wouldn’t mind a stretch between those points either, but I think I can get us home. Two hours, maybe. Three at the most.”

 “You want me to drive?” You know it’s a stupid offer but if it broke the silence, you weren’t going to back down. At least you seemed to be forgiven now. He had his emotions properly bottled and stowed away.

 He grins and glances at you, “would y’ like me ta help y’ walk?”

 You shrug, smiling back at him , “Just figured I’d offer you a break.” You start to stretch for the next leg, watching him stop leaning on his alt and turn around to rub some dirt off his own hood, looking at his own reflection in his window after.

 “Like a bird looking at a mirror,” you mutter, standing straight to follow him. He looks up.

 “What was that, poppet?”

 “Nothing, nothing. Let’s get back on the road.” He rolls his eyes at you while he gets in the driver’s seat and opens his passenger door for you, not even bothering to manually do it for you with his holoform. 

 When you get in, he’s staring at his dashboard looking like something was wrong.

 “Did something happen?” 

 He looks at you with sad eyes and a lopsided grin that told you he had something in mind and everything was actually fine. “Babe, my engine won’t start. I need a little help gettin’ it going. Gimme a kiss?”

 Of course, but you’re not going to cow over that easily. You look at him with false exasperation, “Really? You’re going to be that cheesy?”

 

“Aw com’on, babe. Please?” He reached to take your hand, pulling you towards him slowly while he leans in with pleading eyes. “I can’t get us home if I can’t even start drivin’. Gimme a fix, luv.”

 Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. All must be forgiven if he’s pulling this kind of act. “Oh, alright. If it’ll help.” You let him pull you in for a kiss on those usually loud and obnoxious, but very warm lips of his. The moment you both touch of course is when his engine ‘magically’ roars to life with a couple of what you honestly could say were flirty revs. 

 “So generous,” he cackles as he pulls out of the parking space and heads back on the highway. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad at ya earlier.”

 He was apologizing to you? Now that’s a new one; did someone steal your Crosshairs and replace him while you were in the bathroom?

 “I’m sorry I brought it up.” You squeezed his hand.

 Crosshairs shook his head, “I’m just sore is all. I still don’t want to talk about home.“

 That was understandable. Still, you weren’t going to pester him about it and upset him again. You’re not about to spend the ride home in moody silence and then watch him pout and sulk his way around your house for however long that took him.

 “What would you like to talk about then?” You offered. “What’s on Crosshairs’ mind?”

 He snorted, looking at the road with a humored smile like he had a joke with himself. ‘Babe, you don’t want to know what’s on my mind.’ 

 “Where can I find really good cake on this road?” He proposed after a minute.

 “Really?”

 “Alright fine, you pick.” He poked your stomach with the hand that was holding yours. 

 “No, I just...Do you get the munchies or something? Is that something you get?”

 “You make a meal out of a midnight snack.” 

 “You’ve never complained when you joined me for that snack. Mister Eats-an-entire-cake.” 

 “That was a cupcake! That’s not a whole cake, my fuel tanks are bigger than yours!”

 You prod his gut with his own hand, returning the poke he’d given you. “Your everything is bigger than me!”

 “Damn right it is.” He winks suggestively and you yank your hand from him.

 “Dirty old rust bucket.” You’re trying not to smirk at him, but it’s failing and he knows it.

 “Aw, don’t be like that babe, you know you love it when I pick you up in my big strong hands.” He’s not even looking at the road while he grins at you. 

 You did like it when he picked you up. But you’re not going to tell him that to his face.

 “Or running my big, strong hands all over your body-”

 “Shut up!” You look away from him to hide your blush, crossing your arms to keep the one he was trying to hold out of his reach.

 He chuckles looking at the road again. “You like it. Like when we cuddle in your bed, or on the couch…” He pauses as though he’s not sure he wants to add something else, like it’s something he wants to keep to himself for a rainy day. “Or in the garage, when you touch my face.”

 Well _that_ warmed your heart. You turn towards him again. “Oh yeah? _You_ like _that_ , huh?”

 “Y’have these tiny warm hands...” Of course, he grabs your hand while your guard is down, rubbing it against his face, “They’re so soft.” You left your hand limp while he uses it to rub under his chin, over his scruffy cheeks, and back over his mouth where he gives your knuckles a kiss. 

 “Babe, why aren’t you caressing my handsome face?”

 “Because it’s cuter when you do it for yourself.” Honestly it was, he was a like a cat, only he was  grooming himself with another’s paw.

 "’M not cute! You’re cute!” He sounds so insulted that someone would dare use such an adjective on him.

 “You’re cute sometimes, you shit. I’ll caress that face of yours when we get home.”

 “But babe that’s a couple of hours awayyyy,” he whined. “Primus, I could use a recharge.”

 “Awww is someone cranky?” A nap for him at this point in the day might as well just be sleeping, and there was still just a bit of daylight left. 

 “‘M tempted t’ just vear into the woods and use you as a pillow.” He started to yawn, opening his mouth wider than you thought was necessary.

 “I’m not a good pillow.” Usually it was you using him as a pillow because he was already on the couch or your bed.

 “You’re squishy.” 

 “That’s all you have to say about that? You know, most humans would find that insulting.”

 Crosshairs growled, and you wondered if you were close to crossing a line. You take your hand from him and start to scratch under his chin, watching his frown transform into a satisfied grin. He hummed in pleasure as his eyes slit close. “Right there, lovey.” 

 “Hey, don’t go to sleep at your own wheel,” you warn. “We’re almost home.”

 “Mmhm,” he barely acknowledges. You can feel him slowing the smallest bit while his engine purrs louder.

 “Crosshairs! I’ll take my hand away.”

 He looks at you with his eyes opened the smallest crack, “Noooooooo.”

 

If he won’t let you drive, how else can you get him to stay awake? “I’ll give you cake when we get home.”

 “There isn’t any; I ate it all,” he grumbled. 

 “Even the cake in the freezer?”

 Now he opened his eyes a little more, “There’s cake in the freezer?”

 Aha, so there was some leftover cake he didn’t know about. “I always have extra for you.” 

 Crosshairs hummed and kissed your hand, letting you take it back. “Toooooo goood to meee. The hell am I supposed to do while I’m gone? Where am I gonna get this kinda thing? Who’s gonna _take care_ of _me_?”

 You were quick. “Think about what kind of cake you want me to get you when you come back.”

 “Chocolate cake,” 

 “That’s it? That’s all you want?”

 “What? What were you expecting?”

 “Nothing, I’m just surprised that’s all you wanted.” 

 “How about some ice cream?”

 “I’m also surprised you’re not being snarky about this.” Usually he came up with ridiculous requests.

 “‘M, too tired to snark. Can we just skip tomorrow? Can I stay in and recharge? I promise I’ll teach you how to shoot the next day or when I get home from whatever bullcrap Bee has going on, I don’t care. You pick” 

 “Sure,” Honestly you could use the break too, even though this entire adventure had been his own doing. You smiled though. He said ‘when’ he gets home, not if. You were surprised with that positive thought. Maybe spending a day in with him would be nice, convince him to cuddle or have lunch or a movie or even tell you about his adventures in space or on earth.

 “Thanks, poppet.” He looked happy for a second and then made a face at the road, “Almost home.”

 Home. You wondered if he considered your house home. He certainly came to it enough times that he would raid your fridge, or take a nap on your couch, and even borrow your clothes.

 You suddenly wanted a bigger home, one he could walk around in and share space with you in. Maybe get a big couch and a bed and…

 “Y’awake babe?” Crosshairs was shaking your arm a little.

 “Huh?” You didn’t even noticed you’d dozed off. “‘Zzup w’her are we?”

 “We’re home.” He started picking you out of his seat and headed inside. 

 

 


End file.
